


Hope

by thejourneymaninn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Gen, Januanders, and a little angst, januanderstakeback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejourneymaninn/pseuds/thejourneymaninn
Summary: Just a little fluff for Januanders Day 2 - Anders and cats.In which Anders gets a cat. Well, sort of.





	

“Ah, come on in.” Donnic smiled, stepping aside and gesturing to the hallway.

“I thought the messenger said there was an emergency?” Anders inquired with a frown as he entered Donnic’s and Aveline’s cosy little house. “Why are you so calm? Who needs healing? Aveline? Fenris? _Hawke_?”

“It is an emergency,” Donnic nodded with that jovial smile beneath which Anders often thought he saw a spark of something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, “but not the kind that requires your services as a healer. Someone has been missing you an awful lot.” He led him down a narrow corridor into what Anders assumed had to be one of their guest rooms. “I hope you remember her?”

Of course he did. How could he have forgotten? She had grown quite a bit since he had last seen her, but he would have recognized that bushy tail, the soft, brilliant white fur and the single black spot that marred her left front paw anywhere.

And he also remembered, vividly, the first time he had laid eyes on her, when Donnic had lured him away from Hawke and the others at the Keep, asking for help with an abandoned kitten. Curled up on a pillow in an unused room, the tiny creature had barely been alive, so weak she didn’t even have the strength to whine. With his help, that had changed quickly, and soon she would whine with unbreakable determination every time he entered the room. Still, he had been certain she wouldn’t make it. He reminded himself not to get attached, was prepared – or tried to be, at last - to find her body a cold and empty shell each time he returned. But as if by some magic far exceeding his own, she persisted. And so did Anders, vowing not to give up so long as there was the slightest bit of hope left. Every day, he healed her, fed her, gave her all his love and attention, channelling it into his fingers just like he did with his magic and stroking it into her fur. And with every day, she grew stronger.

When she had started to explore the room on increasingly steady legs, relief rolled through him in a bittersweet wave. Soon, she would not need him anymore, and he would have to leave her behind, just like Pounce. Donnic had asked if he wanted to keep her, but Anders knew all too well there was no way she would survive in Darktown. There was nothing he could do to repay her for the consolation she had offered him, for her soothing purrs and the way she liked to sleep wound around his foot, or hand, so trusting and at peace, entirely unbothered by the dangerous force inside him. He could only let her go and hope she would end up with someone who loved her just as much.

“Look,” he had joked weekly around the spikes of emotion in his throat when he had said Goodbye, “there’s a bit of taint in her, too.” He pointed at the black spot on her paw.

As Donnic nodded thoughtfully, his expression revealed nothing. “There is rarely unanimity on whether something is a blemish or an embellishment. Either way, she seems to be doing well. Thanks to you, no doubt. Are you certain you don’t want to keep her?”

“Oh,” he had said with a longing sigh, “I do want to keep her. But more than that, I want to keep her safe. Please try to find a good home for her. The cat deserves it.” Anders hadn’t given her a name. It would only have made it worse.

 

And now here she was, slinking past his legs, rubbing against them excitedly, knocking her head against his hand in an impatient call for attention. He scooped her up into his arms – apparently, she had in fact missed him, for she let him get away with it – and pressed his face into her fur.

“What is she doing here? I thought Aveline didn’t want a cat?”

“She didn’t. But she warmed up to our little adventurer here when she started strutting through the keep. She only agreed to keep her on one condition, though…”

Anders lifted his head. “Condition?”

“Yes. Someone has to come play with her for a few hours each week, to tire her out enough so that she doesn’t demand we play with her _every_ night. I was hoping you might be willing to take on that burden.”

There it was again, that smile with the layers. Amusement? Mischief? Wisdom? Compassion? Anders could never quite tell.

“Of course I am but…somehow I doubt your wife would be happy with the thought of _me_ spending time in her house…”

“Actually, she was the one who suggested it. I believe her exact words were ‘It might keep that self-destructive fool off the streets’.”

Anders stifled a chuckle. That sounded…almost convincing. At least if you added a bit of gentle persuasion to the scenario. “In that case, I am more than willing to take the job. And the only payment I ask for are purrs and cuddles. Yes, I do,” he cooed at the cat in his arms, pressing a kiss on her forehead. She flinched away with an expression of consternation not even the eternally grumpy elf could have matched, and he scratched the fur behind her ear in apology.

“What’s her name?” he asked distractedly.

“She doesn’t have one. Yet. We thought it only right if you chose one. After all, it was you who kept her in this world. Although, with regard to my wife’s patience, may I suggest something short?”

Anders felt her strong, steady heartbeat beneath his finger, let his gaze wander across her slowly blinking eyes, the white fur, that single dark paw, and looked back up at Donnic with a smile.

“Her name is Hope.” 


End file.
